First Rain

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Rooftop rain wakes me from a dream.
A thirsty land is suckled by the storm.
An open window inhales sweet breath
of Winter snow and silver Summer stream.

I rush to save sun-faded cushions
that fear the stain of dank black mold;
and return again to indoor light,
chilled by October’s sudden cold.

Our little dog peers from her lair,
moves only eyes in pet disdain
for forays into night wet air
long before dawn’s duties call.

I feel I must explain:

“We come; we go; like everything we know.
We dreaming dreamers dream
among the galaxies that blow
through time and place and space.

“We’re twins, you and I.
Born hungry, blind, and dumb,
We learn and grow and become,
but never see the years run by.

“What are we now, old girl?
Each instant was forever at our birth;
Then years shrink and fade like proven truth,
and now we dream at the edge of eternity.”

“Nonsense!” she snorts. “Enough!
Sleep, old liar; be still!”
Again my little dog barks outraged
that I talk while no one speaks to me.

Silly looking, but complex and wise,
She turns away with poodle sigh,
head down, with tight closed eyes,
shuts out the noise of rain,
and time, and humankind.

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